


Vacant Smile

by violescent



Category: Kagerou Project, Mekakucity Actors
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Drama, Gen, Missing Persons, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suicide Attempt, Violence, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-11 05:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5615236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violescent/pseuds/violescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm sorry, but I don't like lying to people."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a drowning scene/implication in this chapter, so be wary!

**I'm still standing here with my eyes closed,**

**Lost between the deserts and oceans.**

* * *

Once, Kano read an article about Ancient Egypt. He preferred to read magazines often, actually, since they contained fun and trendy information, and were formatted more easily than traditional books were. On one day that was like any other, he picked up some sort of travel magazine, and flipped to a page where it talked about ancient cultures and their traditions.

Ancient Egyptians, according to the article, had a fixation and appreciation for symmetry. Their standards in beauty and living reflected this. From having a perfect face to crafting even foundations for a building—many artifacts and aspects found in Egypt were noticeably and verily  _symmetrical._

It was not hard to understand why. It was almost a universal rule at this point that perfection was the number one thing that humans strive for. Conversely, this meant that asymmetrical things were considered unattractive and appalling. Imbalance was ugly, after all. Imbalance was disgusting. Damage and imperfection were hated, no matter what. Anything that fell out of a symmetrical, perfect standard was easily discarded, and all love and respect in the world was only saved for the best.

In that regard, Kano was the worst. He was, by all means, imperfect. He was emotionally and mentally uneven, if not physically. His trauma stuck with him like ghosts that wanted his misery to be everlasting. Anxiety and hatred clung to him like static, and whenever he walked he felt as if he was always weighed down by something. Whenever he turned to see what it was, the thought evaded him like a wisp of smoke. And then he had to pretend that he had feet in his boots, instead of the lead and concrete that he swore he felt there. All in all, it was boring, fake, and disgusting.

It made him hate himself even more than he already did. The article, while not a defining factoid in his life, was certainly an affirmation and testament to his flawed self. For centuries, humans have always coveted beauty, wholesomeness, and perfection. They have always looked down on ugliness, fractures, and imperfection.

And Kano was such a sorrowful mix of them all. His past, present, and future were all imperfect. He faced violence, death, rebirth, life, pain, and love all at once—except the better of those things, the life, love, happiness, and joy were bitterly outshined by the worst of those things. His loss, his pain, his violence. Kano lost his mother, and it everyday knowing that a monster brewed within him (and how he was turning into a monster himself). It hurt to become so familiar with the violence which the heat haze itself seemed to spawn from. It was a bleak, permanent reminder to Kano how damaged and destroyed he was—how he never had a chance to be a perfect person, or be a boy that everyone could love and protect.

If perfection was beauty, then Kano was the ugliest thing to have walked the earth.

And this he knew for a  _fact._

***

"I'm heading out," Kano announced. He put emphasis and volume in his voice, even if only two other people were present to hear him.

They were the same two people that had been at his side since early on in his life. Tsubomi Kido, and Kousuke Seto were people and names that Shuuya Kano had permanently branded into his mind. The former of which was a stern but strong leader, albeit cynical and brash at times. The latter of which was a kind and resilient worker, although sensitive and naive more often than not. Yes, they were the perfect complements to Kano's own personality—one that was shattered and broken and rebuilt with bits and pieces stolen from others. There were still a few core words left to describe Kano, however.

 _Petty, ignorant, bitter, callous, nosy, attentive, clever, smart, rude,_ and  _stupid_ were just  _some_ examples _._ There were undoubtedly more adjectives in the world that could be used to describe the boy known as Kano Shuuya. And, luckily for Kano, he had been accused of being all and any of those things at some point or another, so he knew that they were traits he could call his own.

Still, he was not so bad when either Kido or Seto were with him. They were the only ones that Kano allowed some genuine displays of emotion for. Even if he was dismissing them just now, he always acted like that. He put up these bright smiles, but spoke horrid words in their stead.

"Be safe, then," Kido responded. She stared at the third member warily. "It's getting late, though. What's the use of going out right now?"

"Just a little nightly stroll, y'know?" Kano shrugged, and a practiced smile appeared alongside his actions. "Don't be so worried."

"Don't tell me what to do," she insisted. Her eyes, dark and questioning, narrowed slightly. "I just don't want you to do something stupid."

"Me? Stupid?" Kano gawked. He covered his mouth as he gasped in fake surprise. "Why, I would  _never!_ "

"I think," Seto suddenly interrupted, "that Kido is just concerned. I am, too, but if you can come home by dinner, then it won't be so bad. You get me?"

 _Always playing the pacifier, aren't you, Kousuke?_ Were it not for Seto's good spirit and big heart, then Kano would have just gotten angry at such a corny attempt at keeping the peace. Still, he gave in the smallest of ways, and waved his hand dismissively at the both of them.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry so much, you two. Especially  _you_ , Kido. You're gonna get wrinkles at this rate!"

Tsubomi scoffed, and rolled her eyes for added effect. "Whatever. Just hurry up with that stroll of yours. I have no problems cooking for less people, y'know."

"Fine, fine. I'll catch you two later!" Kano cheered. He turned on his heels, and his jacket flew out from behind him like a misguided shadow. It came back to his form soon enough, however, and he gave his signature hood an affectionate tug in return.

Without looking back at the others, he called out to them in a lilting voice. "Don't wait for me!"

***

The smell of incense wafted delicately. The shine of moonlight casted over the sleek stones, illuminating the names written on them in straight and uniform lines. All was quiet, and the only noise was that of a sorrowful breeze together with the broken echoes of Kano's breath

There was a certain stone that he became fixated on. It had the surname  _Tateyama_ written across the top, and several names were enscripted underneath that. Kano felt his heart weigh heavy at the particular name  _Ayano._  A framed picture of the girl in question stood tall before him, and in that frozen glimpse of time one could see the bright smile she once had—he could see the short-lived happiness that she was always known for having.

He missed her smile more than anything. Pictures were not a proper substitute to the pure  _sunshine_ she once radiated. But pictures were all he had, so even now he clung desperately to the black-framed photo of the girl named Ayano Tateyama.

Well, as much as he could hold anything, anyway. In his hands was a bouquet made of different types of red flowers. After all, red was Ayano's favorite color. It suited her, aesthetically and otherwise. A tiny voice in the back of his head resounded with a familiar phrase:  _Red is the color of a hero!_

And she was the most heroic of them all, he would have to say. Usually when Kano visited her grave, he was jovial and rejoiced in this knowledge. He laughed and joked about how quiet it was without her, and how Kido and Seto were growing up and becoming delinquents in her absence. He said that without her, they were all slowly disappearing, and becoming shadows of their former selves.

He always said such nonsensical things whenever he visited her. But tonight was different. There were no jokes to be made, no stories to be told. Shuuya Kano was as silent as the stone in front of him. He did not shed a single tear, either. Only dry, unbearable melancholy leaked out—that which slowly tore at him from the inside out.

When it became too unbearable, Kano left the bouquet at the base of the grave, and took one lasting look at his sister before he left. He eyed the additional scripture in the stone, that which resonated something wistful inside of him, to the point where he choked on a tiny sob that wanted to crawl its way out of his throat and into the stale, empty air.

 _Ayano Tateyama,_ it read,  _Beloved daughter, sister, and friend. The world is not as bright without her._

_The world is not as bright._

***

Time passed and Kano had no desire to return home. It was a struggle to face Kido or Seto each time he visited Ayano's grave. He knew it was selfish, too, especially when the other two suffered just as much as he did when it came to missing Ayano. But he could not help it, no matter how much he wanted to.

He really did  _not_ want to see them. Not them, or any other member of their gang, for that matter. All he wanted to do was be by himself, or whoever he was at the moment.

More importantly, he only wanted to be with Ayano. They were so close when she was alive. He always fantasized that somehow, she would magically appear in front of him, and that the kindness he lost over the years would be restored at once upon seeing her heavenly visage. He always hoped that she would appear suddenly, and tell him that everything up to this point was a lie, but that it would be okay because he could rest, now.

Because, really, he was  _so_  exhausted. All the time, he never felt relaxed or happy or even just well-rested. He faked those things, along with most things in his life, for the sake of the others. After all, most of the members saw him as impregnable, mysterious, and controlled. He was the illusionist, the deceiver, the liar—he was the wolf in sheep's clothing that would bite and lash out, but only because he cherished the sheep that he had flocked to.

They all figured that  _he_ had it all figured out.

_Oh, how wrong they all are._

He would much rather be with Ayano. Even if she was gone—long gone at that—Kano still felt like she could be near. Maybe she was. Maybe he was just not looking hard enough.

Still, the main point was that he did not want to go back to Kido and Seto. Not yet. So he settled for one of his late night graffiti sessions; one of his improvisational artworks that gave him momentary instances of solace and artistic inspiration. Tonight's show was one displayed on a lone alley wall, smooth and untouched as far as the eye could see.

Tonight, Kano did nothing short of splattering the surface with paint. He had all his usual supplies, too. Spray cans, paint cans, brushes and his gas mask. He made a point of having his things ready for a late outing like this, and snuck the objects away from under Kido and Seto's nose on his way out earlier.

In methodical movements, Kano decorated the wall. Various colors were used, including different types of reds, blacks, whites, and browns. A little yellow and green were added, too. Streaks here, streaks there.

When Kano was done, he was lightly spattered in paint, and his arms ached. He took a step backwards to admire his work.

The once-bare wall was now a large, elegant mural of Ayano herself. In the painting, her eyes were closed and she was smiling. One of her hands was placed on her chest, the other disappearing into perspective. Her crimson scarf was wrapped around her neck, the lengths of it reaching out and fading into splayed ends. Below her figure was a few words, written in fanciful, painted letters.

 _Ayano Tateyama,_ it read.  _Beloved._

_The world is brighter with her._

***

The shining light of Kano's phone screen jarred him. His eyes, golden yet dull, narrowed as he recoiled in discomfort. When he lowered the brightness setting of his phone, he properly read what his notifications were telling him.

_New voicemail_

_Missed calls_

_Kido (17), Seto (16)_

_Messaging_

_Kido (14), Seto (3)_

The larger-than-normal numbers scared him, but when he glanced at the time, he seemed to have understood why.

It was three o'clock in the morning. It was far past dinner time, long after the time he said he would return and yet he remained outside. It was funny to think that despite the pitch blackness around him, it was closer to morning than anything else. Instead of being home where he belonged, he was curled up in an abandoned alleyway, where the harsh smell of paint fumes surrounded him in a dizzying haze.

The mural of Ayano, which rested behind him, was bright and vibrant. It appeared that way  _now,_ but soon enough it would fade away, either with rainwater or with the cruel passage of time.

In a way, it was very similar to the real Ayano, who was bubbly and energetic, until she discovered the truth about her parents' endeavors, and the truth of her classmates' fates. Once time had started ticking away, her vibrancy slowly disappeared, and it left altogether when she died.

Kano sneered. The corners of his lips twitched with heated indignation. Was that  _all_ death had to offer? Slow but steady dilapidation? Forgetfulness and dullness?  _Ha,_ he scorned internally,  _ha, ha. How sad._

His phone started to ring, the sound of which startled him. He fumbled with the device, then paused when Kido's picture appeared. The photo he had chosen for her was actually a nice one, albeit a bit unfocused. Kano remembered it clearly, too. Kido had been underneath the streetlight, waiting patiently for the light to turn green. The whole gang had gone out to a restaurant at night, but Kido and Kano went back to the base ahead of everyone else. Kido was smiling in the picture, although her arm was blurred out as she tried to punch Kano for attempting to take her photo in the first place.

Her profile picture was proof that he succeeded in catching her off guard. He admitted that she looked kind of cute, but at the time of its current appearance, he could not have been more annoyed to see her face.

Shuuya was so annoyed, he turned his phone off completely, and put it in his pocket. He was too tired and too somber to even  _attempt_  to communicate. He would rather curl up and sleep on the streets, than try to return home.

Which is  _exactly_ what he did. With the last of his conscious strength, Kano used his power and made himself appear as nothing more than a black cat. He did not look up from his spot, and closed his eyes in delayed sluggishness.

And maybe he started to dream, because he swore he could feel Ayano's presence appear near him—he swore he could feel her enveloping him in her warmth. He swore he could hear her voice, soft and light, reassuring him in every way possible.

" _Go to sleep, Shuuya,"_ she said. " _You can rest now."_

" _You can rest…"_


	2. Gone

**This is too hard,**

**is this path right for me?**

* * *

Kido grew restless the next day. The other members could tell that something was wrong right away. Mary and Seto—who lived at the gang's headquarters and therefore became used to Kido—figured this much quicker than the others.

The Kisaragi siblings, while not as familiar with Kido as they could have been, already sensed an air of anxiety and dread surrounding their beloved leader. Momo felt it quicker than Shintaro did, but Shintaro's quick thinking and clever intuition helped him figure it out soon enough.

To think they had chosen that day of all days to appear was unlucky. Although Kido supposed it was fate, and the same went with Hibiya and Konoha. Since the death of Hiyori, Hibiya had been staying at the countryside more often, but in the heat of the summer he always managed to appear before them, somehow. Konoha, who was more than welcome at their home, instead chose to stay with Hibiya occasionally, and wandered about on his lonesome otherwise.

The fact that they were both there, as well, meant something. And with Ene appearing from Shintaro's phone, Kido realized the whole gang was there.

Everyone except for Kano, of course. And  _that_ was what made her restless, above all else. That was the sole cause of her current anxiety, and the perpetrator of her building frustration. She knew that they could sense her change in demeanor, as well, so she did not hesitate to come out with the truth.

"Kano hasn't come back since last night," she simply said. Then she tacked on weakly at the end: "Good morning."

"Morning," Hibiya murmured. "So that weirdo's gone missing, huh?"

"H-He usually leaves whenever he wants, though…" Mary squeaked. Her voice was soft, and were it not for the other's conjoined silence, then her words would have gone completely unnoticed.

"That's true," Seto agreed. "Once he left for a whole day without telling us! But that was because he fell asleep on the subway, so..."

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions, then," Shintaro said. "He'll probably show up."

"That's what I wanted to believe," Kido said. "But I doubt it. He hasn't answered any of our calls. And when I called earlier, it went straight to voicemail. If he's not back by lunch, I'm really gonna have to ask you guys to help me find him."

"I can help!" Ene shouted. "I'll look on the internet!"

"Me, too!" Momo affirmed. "Maybe I can ask my fans? I mean, they usually respond to me on Twitter and stuff, so…"

"W-We can make posters," Mary added again. "B-But only if we can't find him today."

"Like I said," Shintaro reminded them all, "he's not in trouble  _yet._ Odds are that he's out doing whatever and he'll be back. Don't get your hopes up."

Soon, chaotically organized conversation broke out between all the members. Amid the chatter that began to arise, Seto quietly whispered to Kido on the side. "I'm gonna keep a lookout for him while I buy groceries. I'm sure he'll be back soon, so let's relax, okay? It'll be okay."

Kido—whose dark gaze was affixed on the vibrant image of the others members—focused on Seto's kind eyes and relented ever so softly. She nodded in assent to his words.

"I hope so. I really, really I hope so."

***

Kano was nowhere to be seen. The sun began to set, and it was well past lunchtime when the whole group decided that they had better start looking for him. Mary and Momo worked on the missing persons posters, while Ene turned to the internet for answers. Shintaro went out with Konoha and Hibiya to do some old-fashioned searching around for themselves. Seto stayed with Kido, and asked his employer and his coworkers over the phone if they have seen Kano around.

With all the members working at once, it was very likely that they would at least find a lead that might tell them where Kano was. But Kido, practical as ever, doubted that in every way possible.

 _Besides,_ she thought,  _he would have come back by now._

_What if it's too late?_

***

In the latest hour of the night, all of the children formed one big group after having spent the entire evening apart. Most of their searches came up empty, and at this point Tsubomi's nerves were enough to do her in.

Even with the safety of their large group, she felt exposed and weak. She felt isolated from them, despite her footsteps walking in sync with theirs. This feeling multiplied variously as they walked along the city streets, unnoticeable by the people around them. Despite their great number, they were deathly silent as they continued the search in earnest fear.

Right as they were about to turn in for the night, however, they stumbled upon the biggest clue they could have possibly found. In a narrow alleyway, the bright mural of the inner wall was so spectacular that it caught Kido's attention immediately. Upon further inspection, the horror of realization came to her.

Before them was a large mural of Ayano Tateyama. Each child had a differing expression, and the only ones that were as shocked as Kido and Seto were Shintaro and Ene. But the still-fresh wetness and smell of paint indicated that Kano had been there recently.

If he  _had_ been there, however, he was in no hurry to cover up the evidence or to stay behind. His familiar gas mask lay unused and discarded to the side—cold and stained with a red splash of paint that looked too much like blood to be comforting. Kido walked up slowly and held the object in her hand, still. She glanced at the painting of her late sister and grimaced. The fancy graffiti-cursive below her seemed to mock Kido, and the few words echoed endlessly in her head.

_Ayano Tateyama._

_The world is brighter with you._

***

The hours slipped into days, which formed into weeks. At the month mark, Tsubomi felt herself losing all her wits, with her patience and kindness diminishing until there was only worry and distress left in their place. Everyone was just as frazzled as she was, but only Seto knew how she really felt.

After all, his feelings matched hers entirely. Where Kido became harsh and vapid, Seto had become melancholy and desperate. He snapped at others for what seemed like the first time in his life. He was distant, far off, and not even Mary—in all her kind heartedness—could do anything to bring him back from this emotional turmoil and self-isolation.

It was the perfect situation that called for outside intervention. Momo suggested that they take a break. She offered to treat everyone to a mini-vacation at the beach, using the extra money she made as her job as an idol. The rhythmic waves and soft sand were sure to put everyone at ease, or at least, curb some of their anxieties away.

So, a month or two into their search for Kano was marked with an expedition at the beach. For the most part, it seemed to be working. Seto looked pleased at the thought of jogging alongside the shore, or riding a few bikes with everyone. Kido found the thought of seashell collecting amiable, and even offered to pack lunch for everyone later on.

They rode in one of Momo's idol company's cars, refurbished and free of charge considering the girl's unusual (and unnatural) success as of late. The cityscape disappeared from their sights in the window, and after a few hours the shore line and the vast pacific was in their view.

Soon enough, the whole gang had reached the sands, and were immersed in casual beachtime fun. Seto set up a beach volleyball court, with the first rounds of the game pitting him and Hibiya against Konoha and Mary. While it was going well at first, Konoha's super strength got the better of him and he deflated the ball with too strong of a hit.

"Lucky for us I brought extras," Seto said. "Be more careful, okay?"

"Okay..." Konoha droned on, usually lethargic voice dipped in something that resembled  _concern_. "Sorry…"

And a little ways from them was Shintaro, who was relaxing on a fold out chair underneath an umbrella. Ene changed her appearance to match that of a swimsuit, and whined that Shintaro was not stimulating enough. "At this rate," she said to him, "the sun will start to shun you away for good!"

"I don't care," Shintaro muttered. "I plan on relaxing here all day. If you want, go to Momo's phone. She and Leader are looking for seashells."

To this, Ene agreed, and momentarily disappeared from Shintaro's home screen. He sighed in relief, and in the same moment Momo exclaimed as Ene's sudden appearance had scared her.

"Master's no fun at all," she explained to her, "so I'll join you two!"

"That's fine by me," Momo allowed. "Leader and I are looking for shells! See if you spot any good ones!" She held up the phone so Ene could see the full view of the ocean. Ene gawked at the picturesque sight, and yelled animatedly over potential seashell sightings.

Kido, alongside the two, simply smiled and kept up the pace. Even if Kano's haunting disappearance still occupied most of her thoughts, part of her was able to relax and worry about other things—if only for a little bit. The smallest reprieve, however, was enough for her. She sighed at this revelation, and stared at the blue expanse before them. She focused on the seafoam, the rocks, and the occasional crab that walked along in sideways steps. Altogether, these images and sounds combined together to create something harmonic and magical.

It was like a song. There was a rhythm, a pace, and an occasion for head-bobbing. There was noise, but it was the kind that came in painless waves of enjoyment. There was company, and following that was the good vibrations of play and laughter. The echoes of happiness (something which had been absent for the past month or so) reverberated loudly and kindly between all of them.

In the darks of Kido's eyes, the slightest sliver of light appeared. It was a beacon of hope, a streak of warmth that was rare in her cold, desolate days. Her chest, which always felt constricted as it was hard to breathe, felt freer than it had ever been. Maybe this break was good for her, after all. Maybe this was the right direction to take after all the time they had taken. Maybe this was a sign that their search was not so hopeless, and that soon their luck would turn around—brightening up like the seashore and the distant sun.

Maybe.

***

In the latter half of the day, the sun turned dark and cast a myriad of shadows alongside the water. In their world, the ocean was orange, purple, and blue all at once. The hues mixed in with each other to create one heavenly gradient, that which was soft and soothing to look at. The rays of light caught themselves on the lulling waves of the sea, and the refractions sent thousands of white sparkles across the water.

The children looked toward that horizon, and felt entirely invigorated. For a short moment in time, it was just the eight of them ( _there should be nine of us,_ Kido bitterly thought) enjoying the sea shore, with only the salty breeze and dreamy contemplation breaking apart their harmony. Their things were all packed up soon enough, and with lunch eaten and consumed, there was nothing left for them to do now. Tomorrow would come soon, and they would need to be ready to continue the search for Kano. They would need to prepare for good news and bad news alike, but to do that at  _all_ they needed to leave this paradise behind shortly.

Tsubomi felt her worries arise again, but this time she chose to accept them, rather than let them devour her. There was nothing that could be done apart from what she was already doing. Her best was all she could offer, and all she could  _hope_  to offer in order to return Kano to her side.

Knowing this, she turned her back on the beach. The others followed suit shortly thereafter. Only Momo (and Ene, consequently) remained behind. Momo told Ene to give the ocean one last look before they go, and the other girl agreed as she gazed out the horizon and let out a dreamy sigh all at once.

In the seconds it took for Momo to turn around, and for Ene to stare out at the changing scenery, the cyber girl screamed as loud as she could. Momo was startled, and nearly dropped her phone because of it.

"Ene!" she yelled at her. "Why are you screaming? What's wrong?"

"There!" Ene screeched, ignoring most of Momo's words in her frenzy. "By the rocks! Little Sister! Leader! Master! By the rocks! Over there! Go  _get_  them!"

Momo, not yet understanding of the situation, turned around, and called for the others to come back. Her voice carried through the wind, but Kido was the first to hear her, anyway. Her wariness had returned soon enough, and a chill ran up her spine, like an insect crawling its way up the soft skin of her back.

"Leader!" Momo repeated.

"What?" Kido yelled, making her way back towards the sea. "What's going on?"

"Ene said she spotted something over by the rocks!""

Kido did not need to hear more. She shoved past Momo unintentionally, running wildly to the jetties up ahead. She could barely think as the jagged rock formations came into view. She barely flinched when water splashed at her too hard, leaving behind angry foam and dislodged pebbles in its wake. When her mind caught up with her body, however, she was finally able to understand what all the screaming was about.

Caught in between the rocks was a dark sliver of fabric. It was black, soaked, and slightly tattered. Kido's hands trembled as she reached out for it. The dark color seemed menacing, yet inviting. It felt like soak or slime in her hands, and she figured that it had been sitting there for quite a while.

For a month's while, maybe.

When she examined it closely, it was everything and nothing, all at once. It was white, black, and red all over. The crimson streaks of  _something_  ( _not blood, it can't be blood_ ) ran from the pockets, and sickly yellow clumps of hair remained stuck to the hood. It was a jacket—a sickeningly familiar, dual colored jacket.

She did not have to say his name, or even think of his image just then. It was if he was there inside the jacket, waterlogged and reddened like the fabric itself. It was as if he was the foam in the sea, or the rocks at her knees—white, distant, jagged, close, nearby—attainable but unattainable in the same fell swoop. It was as if he was the salty sea breeze tangling her hair, or the battered sun hiding behind its multicolored sunset.

It was as if he was there, anyway. She need not imagine him.

The world seemed to slowly burn in her mind. The only time Kido felt as hot and helpless as she did now was when her house was literally on fire. Everything felt white, red, and steaming. Her mind went blank, her throat went dry, and her eyes widened. Her lips, chapped and quivering, remained apart from each other as her mouth hung slightly open in an appalled gape.

Momo and the others had surely gathered around her by now, and they definitely saw what Kido saw. Or maybe they did no such thing—maybe they were too horrified by their own imaginings or by the shocking truth that they could not muster up the strength to stay focused on the scene. Either way, everything became silent and noisy all at once, and Kido's dark eyes lost the sliver of life completely. Her hair, long and soft, fell as she lowered her head and buried her face in the soaked piece of clothing.

In the soaked piece of  _Kano._

She sobbed, cried, wept, and screamed all at once. She laughed, giggled, and shouted, too. She was caught in a maelstrom of emotions, such that her face and voice did not know which one to cater to, so she simply fell into all of them at once. It was a mess; it was a tragedy.

It was nothing but hot fire and cold water, the sensation of both hitting her as hard as a subway train. She felt like someone dug a knife into her chest, and twisted the blade until it deformed all of the meat and loose dribble inside. She felt like someone had crushed her just now, and broke her spine in half with all the organs along with it.

She felt her heartbeat, erratic and wild, lose itself in deep sorrow and regret. Her stomach twisted, her soul wrenched, and her hands trembled wildly.

"No, no, no," she muttered out weakly. "Oh no, please no…"

Kido's words fell into repetitive sobs. The others gathered around her now, and began to fall into melancholy themselves as they did their best to give her a group hug. Their tears felt like one as they shed from their gleaming (red) eyes and fell into the damp sand below them. Their sadness coagulated into one sorrowful, disgusting mess, as they all seemingly mourned for the same person at the same time.

"No," Kido kept saying. "No, no, no."

_No._


	3. Found

**I am so confused,**

**Don't you leave me alone.**

* * *

It was strange how loss worked. It took endlessly from someone, but at the same time it gave a little something  _back_ to whoever was mourning. While it felt like a world had been ripped in two and like a mirror had shattered with its pieces scattered to the earth, it also felt like a new beam of light had cast onto the galaxy—it felt like the stars in the sky and endless universe realigned, and formed some sort of shape that Kido could never know the significance of, but know that it was significant in the first place.

And while Kido's soul never stopped mourning over her loss, everyone and everything around her seemed to fall back to its usual pace, instead. One way or another, the other members of the group seemed to heal, even if they did so in the most minimal ways.

It seemed so unfair to her, no matter the circumstances. She longed and hurt so much, she never found solace for a single minute in her life. Not even as months piled on and on—not even when summer disappeared into fall, or when fall fell into winter like the usual seasonal cycle promised it would.

Even as the first snow of the year fell down, Kido's entirety resonated with searing hot  _agony_. Her mind constantly thought about one thing, and everything else was some variation of that same thing. Her body closed itself off in more ways than one. Her stomach grew pits that never seemed full. Her heart temporarily disconnected from the other hearts around her. Even her mind began to suffer, and she lost herself to hysteria every now and then—only to find herself and scold herself for such weakness in the first place.

Soon enough, Kido got to wishing. But every wish she made was for one thing, and one thing alone.

 _Bring him back,_ she thought silently to the universe.  _Please bring him back, somehow. But if you can't do that, then please help me. Help me, because I feel so empty and sad and nothing ever makes it feel better. If you won't bring him back to me, then at least bring me back to_ myself.  _Please._

She wished and wished, but nothing happened as she stayed the same. In that sense, she was like the winter—unending, unchanging, and forever lost in the thralls of icy despair.

She wondered if summer would ever come around again. She hoped not, because no summer was worth spending without  _him_ by her side.

Nothing was worth it, really.

***

Whether or not they liked it, the rest of the Blindfold Gang moved on in some way or another. Seto, especially, had to go back to work, for everyone's sake if not his own. His routine of hanging out with Mary and Kido never changed. (Although the empty chair at the table was ignored by everyone, but the silence that replaced the radiant laughter that was once there was deafening. He tried not to think about it too much.) His routine of leaving for work at the florist's shop did not change, either. Neither did his coworkers, neither did his boss.

The streets he walked on also stayed the same. There was always a hustle, bustle, and rush that left city goers cranky and tourists in awe. In the winter days, things were harsher than usual, and ice lined the sidewalks as hazardous reminders of the dwindling days of the year.

Seto was just another face in the faceless crowd. He trudged behind bossy business folk, corny tourists, and cranky senior citizens alike. He was surrounded by strangers whenever he stopped at a crosswalk, and whenever he was too slow another stranger would bypass him, or worse, curse at him for delaying them with his slowness.

It was like any other day, And just like any other day, Seto kept his (literal) cool. He was not really short tempered at all, and could patiently wait behind others if that was what was required of him. He learned from his mistakes in the past. Even if a weight heavier than iron or steel constantly sat on his shoulders and in his heart, he learned to be more patient with others, and only showed kindness, even in the most unkind situations.

Besides that, he could afford to take his time with it all, since he left for work so early. He had half the mind to check his phone in any case, but something much more important grabbed his attention in the moment.

It was a dog. A big, fluffy dog that waited by an apartment door eagerly. Seto could see its owner, hung up by the entrance as they were gathering the last of their things to go out. Before they could leave, however, he asked permission to pet the creature, and once he received it he gave the dog a good, thorough petting.

"Who's a good lil' doggie?" Seto asked in a cute voice. "You are! Yes, you are!"

The owner smiled, but reminded Seto that they had to get going, unfortunately. Understanding completely, Seto apologized and thanked them in the same breath. Then he waited for the owner and the dog to leave first, before falling back into his stride on the sidewalk.

In those few seconds' delay, however, the  _eye stealer_ was witness to a life changing event. People passed him by easily, but one person that passed by was different from the others.

The person seemed blond, and had a long, black coat swishing out from behind them. The scent of windswept leaves and licorice was familiar, and Seto's heart skipped a beat out of nervousness.

 _No,_ he thought.  _No way._

It could be a mistake. Seto was prone to making them, especially after the beach incident. When he went out, every short-stature, blond person looked like Kano at one angle or another. He even stopped a few of those strangers, just to see if it was  _really_ Kano, and when he realized that he was wrong, he profusely apologized and shamed himself for being so desperate.

But now was a bit different. Even if the jacket was different (they still had  _his_ jacket, after all), the hair was the same. The shape of the person was similar, too—lanky, thin, but not unnoticeable. Maybe they were a bit taller than Kano used to be, but everything else was exactly as Seto remembered it.

Even the blond tufts that stuck out in the back of their head was very Kano-like. Seto felt shameful again, but realized that if he had to apologize for mistaking another person for his presumably-dead brother, then so be it.

As Seto approached the figure, everything else in the world seemed against it. Out of nowhere, the mass of people increased, and Seto found himself distanced from the other, nearly lost in a sea of city goers. When he thought he made progress, traffic would increase again, and Seto would be on one side of the street, and the stranger would be on the other side.

All hope started to diminish, until Seto's anxiety and adrenaline worked at once, and his body jerked forward impulsively. From this, Seto found himself in the middle of a crosswalk, stuttering in front of a car which found time to brake loudly and honk at him excessively. He managed to stammer out an apology, but ultimately ran after the other.

His legs carried him farther and faster than they ever did before. What seemed like an impossible distance was now closed, and in a rough movement, Seto slammed his hand down on the other's shoulder, and forcibly turned him around.

The smaller figure visibly flinched, and slowly made their way to turn around and face Seto directly. The eyes which looked up at Seto were golden, slanted, and short-lashed—just as they had always been. The expression they wore was one of a jaded confusion, coupled with stern disbelief. Yet as soon as their eyes met, Seto felt a fresh sheen of tears threatening to break through. His throat closed up, and his tongue felt dry and unused, like a book left untouched in an old library shelf.

The dust would start to collect, at that rate, but luckily for Seto, the other spoke first.

"...Who are  _you_?"

***

If there was any hope of Seto's tongue working again, it was lost in that three-word question. The emphasis that Kano placed on the " _you_ " was almost accusational, as if he had never seen Seto in his life before.

 _What is this?_ Seto thought incredulously.  _Is this real?_

He could not make any sense of it. Why would Kano pretend to not know him? This person was definitely Kano, so why did he act so strange and foreign just now? If Kano was alive, why did he avoid the Mekakushi Dan in the first place? Was he lying? What would he have to gain from doing such a thing?

All those questions, and infinitely more, began to resound in Seto's mind. It was so overwhelming, he found himself losing his tether to reality, and in his mind he was floating far away from this place on earth.

It was Kano's sharp movements—those that were him breaking free from Seto's grasp—that brought him back to reality.

"Well, then. That's pretty damn rude. You stop someone, and then not say anything to them when you stop them. Whatever, I don't have time for this."

At this point, Kano had turned his back on Seto. He was about to walk away, too, until Seto's senses came back to him, and in a rushed movement he reached for Kano's wrist again. This time, he secured his hold over him tightly, so as to make sure to shift control of the situation into his hands.

Kano turned around, and his face was contorted into something half-annoyed yet half-menacing. " _What_ do you want? Leave me alone, already!"

"You're kidding me. You can't be serious, right?"

"What are you talking about? I don't even  _know_ you!"

His volatile tone and furious expression was convincing, but Seto was more stubborn than he was gullible. He persisted.

"What do you mean, you don't know me? Don't you recognize me? Shuuya Kano, you had better not be messing around with me right now!"

"Stop that!" Kano hissed. He pulled back, only to realize that Seto's strength outmatched his. Still, his golden eyes lost their dullness of tedium, and became alight with a renewed vision of worry and fright. "Let go of me! And how do you even know my name?"

"Don't give me that!" Seto yelled. Others began to look their way, but the necessity of the rush and the size of the crowd prevented anyone from actually stopping them. Seto was grateful, but reverted his full attention to the matter at hand.

"Don't lie to me, Kano!" Seto cried out. "It's not funny, okay? You can't just pretend that you don't know me, do you even know how worried I was? How worried the  _others_  were?"

"Stop," Kano repeated. "Stop it." He managed to wriggle free at last, but did not run away as Seto had feared he would. Seemingly interested in the situation now, he stared up at Seto, and spoke in the most blunt, auspicious manner possible.

"I'm sorry," he conceded. "But I don't like  _lying_ to people."

***

Kido was making lunch for Seto. After all, he often spent most of his free time with her anyway, and preparing meals for the group was one of the few things left that kept Kido busy. Mary was always more excited to see Seto than Kido, but knew where her presence was needed and when it was not. She stayed by Kido's side to help cut vegetables (something she recently learned how to do) and to set a kettle running for some tea.

"I'll be in my room," she said quietly. "C-Call me if you need me, okay?"

"Sure," Kido answered. "I'll call you when Seto gets here."

The medusa nodded, and made her way back to the rooms. When she was out of sight, Kido collapsed on the counter, where she groaned out of exhaustion and heartbreak. Her eyes were wet with tears, but she held them back.

On that day alone, she had cried five times already. She forced herself to hold back.  _No more,_ she thought.  _Stop crying, already._

She was doing remarkably well, too, and was almost completely composed from that lapse in tranquility. That moment of peace lasted shortly until her phone began to ring, the sound and vibration of which startled her more than anything. Noticing the familiar ringtone, she immediately picked it up.

"Seto, you scared me," she said suddenly. There was no need for formalities like "hello" when it came to him. "What's up? Are you on your way home? I'm making lunch."

"Kido," he said, ignoring her questions. "Are you sitting down?"

"No?" she answered doubtfully. "No, I just finished prepping the veggies. Listen, if you're not on your way home, could you pick up some—"

"Tsubomi," he interrupted her. "Sit down, please. This is important."

She blinked, then remembered that it was  _her_  name that he spoke out, and decided that the sudden use of first-name basis was important enough that it warranted her obedience. After removing her apron, she went and sat down at a char at the kitchen table.

"Okay,  _Kousuke,_ " she rebutted. "What's wrong?"

"Listen," he said. "I have no idea how else to say this but just to say it."

"You're scaring me," she admitted. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, I just have to tell you something."

"Then tell me."

"Okay. Are you sitting down?"

"For God's sake!" Kido yelled, a little louder than she meant to. " _Yes,_ I'm sitting down. What is it, Seto? What's going on?"

"...It's Kano."

She froze. He took her silence as a sign to keep going.

"It's Kano," Seto repeated. "He's alive."

***

Before any of that, Seto's mind could only process one sentence at a time. Before he called Kido, Kano's words stuck with him like glue.

_I'm sorry, but I don't like lying to people._

Of course, Seto did not like lying in the least. He hated lies so much. He hated them because of the ugly words he was misfortunate enough to hear before. His power let him steal others' thoughts, and bear witness to inner musings that he would normally not be allowed to hear. It haunted him when he was younger, but now that he was older he had more control over himself.

And yet, part of him felt that using his power on Kano right now would be a valid instance of doing so, considering their current situation. But Seto held himself back, and decided that if he was to convince Kano to come along with him (because he  _had_ to come with him), then he had to do it himself. No tricks, no jabs, no games—just pure and wholesome honesty.

"You're being serious," Seto wondered aloud. "Y-You're not lying?"

"Of  _course_  I'm not," Kano retorted. "There's no reason to lie, even if you  _are_ a stranger."

"But that's the thing!" Seto cut in. "I'm  _not_ a stranger. Why would a  _stranger_ know your name? How would I know that you're Shuuya Kano? It's not like you have social media or anything," Seto started listing off facts that he knew for sure, and in doing so he tried to garner control of the situation once more. "But if you  _did_ have social media, I would still know that your birthday is on the tenth of May. Oh, and that your blood type is B and—"

"—How do you know those things?" Kano suddenly asked. His voice was bare, but even. He seemed incredibly honest, something that was previously impossible of him. "How? Who are you? I don't recognize you, but it's impossible for you to know those things about me!"

"I know it sounds impossible," Seto agreed. "I know this is so hard to believe, but Kano you have to go along with me. If you do, then I can show you everything. Come along with me. Just for a little bit. Just for today." Seto racked his head for more pleasantries to add, and he came up with a hurried plead to tack on the end. "Please, Kano. Please."

Shuuya sighed, and stood still for a moment as he seemed to ponder his options. With a defeated look, he gave in.

"Fine. But it's not because I believe you, but because you said it would be just for today! I have a cellphone and I'll call the cops if you try anything funny."

"I won't do anything to hurt you," Seto reassured, "I promise. I just have to tell them."

"Tell who?" Kano implored. His eyes were narrowed again, but he did not seem as harsh as he was before. His cheeks were reddened, from the cold or from the shame of the situation, Seto did not know. Kano kept speaking, however. "Who are you calling?"

Seto had his phone out at this moment, and with a shaky hand he brought the cell to his ear. He stared at Kano decisively, and answered him with an equal disposition.

"I'm calling Kido," he explained to him. "You may not know her, but it doesn't matter. Just know that she cares about you more than you can ever hope to imagine."

***

An hour passed since Seto's phone call. Kido was wracked with nerves and worse, and she had to repeat several mantras in order for her to calm down.

 _It's Kano,_ Seto's words repeated in her head.  _He's alive._

She wanted to cry and laugh at once. The heat and cold came back in familiar, syncopated rushes, and she felt like her chest had tied itself up into a new knot with her stomach. The terror came back. The joy, too.

"Oh my god," she muttered. "What is happening? Is this real?"

"I-Is  _what_ real…?"

The inquiry was so unexpected, Kido felt herself jostle in her seat.  _Thank goodness for Seto that I'm already sitting down. I'm about to collapse._

"Is  _what_ real…?" Mary repeated herself. Her soft voice was a bit louder than normal, but not by much. Still, Kido felt guilty for worrying her in the first place. The medusa's eyes, rose-colored and narrowed, were more concerned than anything. Her hands were trembling, but she kept her chin up for the most part.

With or without Kano, it would seem that Mary was gaining her own brand of confidence. And while that made Kido happy, it also saddened her in the same way. Mary was changing, but it showed that Kido was  _not._ Since Kano left, she had stayed frozen in time, stuck in a place of endless mourning and grief.

And yet, her most trusted ally—one of her closest friends and companions, Kousuke Seto—had told her that Kano, after all this time, was actually  _alive._ Seto was not one for jokes, either, especially when it came to such serious matters. So the fact was that he told the truth just now, and that Kano was not dead like they presumed he was, but alive and well. Alive and  _breathing._

_Alive._

Kido gulped, and tried to focus her attention back on Mary. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You, um, asked 'is this real?' so I asked you 'is  _what_ real'?" She repeated their short, incomplete greetings, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "What's wrong, L-Leader…?"

"Mary," Kido said. "I don't know if you'll believe me. Right now, I don't even believe myself."

"What happened?"

"Seto called just earlier," Kido explained. "And he told me that...that…"

"...That?" Mary recited. "That what?"

"...Kano's alive." Kido croaked the words out, as if they were hard to say in the first place. It felt like she was trying to spit out glue or slime, but her words must have been coherent enough.

Mary's face fell in shock and in disbelief. She covered her mouth with both of her hands, and her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"W-W-What…?  _What?_ "

"Yeah! H-He said that, and Seto doesn't joke around with these kinds of things, so I don't know what to make of it." She buried her face in her hands. "Oh, God, does that mean this whole time, he's been alive? This whole time, I was worried for nothing…?"

"I-I hope he was telling the truth," Mary acknowledged. "I want it to be true."

"Me too, Mary," Kido muttered. "Me too."

***

The walk back to base was unlike any other. Seto had not felt this awkward since when he first met Kano, all those years back at the orphanage. Even then, things must have gone better than they were going at present. There was a thick awkwardness in the air, not to mention that the tension was heavy enough to weigh on Seto and crush his shoulders.

It was not until the familiar apartment building came into place, did Seto find some relief. And even then, Kano's skepticism kept most of Seto's reassurance at bay. At each step they took, Kano seemed more confused and less understanding. It was cruel how honest he was being, and if Seto did not know any better, he might have wished that he did not find Kano at all.

(But he does not mean that in any way possible. Kano's liveliness is better than anything he could have asked for.)

"Here we are," he said. "Number 107. The Room of the Monsters."

"The...the  _what?_ " Kano asked. "That's what you call it?"

"No," Seto denied. "That's what  _you_ called it. Back at the orphanage, you called our room, which was also number one hundred and seven, 'The Room of the Monsters'. It's because the other kids said it was the room where the monsters were living, but anyway! Let's just go in, okay?"

"Okay. Whatever, as long as we get this over with."

Seto hesitated, but opened the door with sloppy movements at last. The air inside was as it always had been, except the new smells of lunch and cooking were present. He sighed, and stepped to the side, where he offered that Kano go in first.

"Fine, but I'm warning you, no funny business. And no dirty tricks, okay?"

"I already told you that I'm not going to hurt you," Seto said exasperatedly. "I just want you to go in and see for yourself. Think you can manage that?"

"I can," he insisted. Despite the confidence in his voice, he was gingerly walking through the hall, slowly and carefully like something might pop out at him at any time. There, he found decorations and pictures, but none of it seemed familiar to him in the least. He did not even pause to stare at them for too long, despite knowing that his familiar visage was somehow placed in a good majority of those photos. He passed a few doors along the way, as well, but ultimately kept walking.

When he reached the end, he found himself in an open reception area. There were leather couches and several more doors. Off to the side was an open kitchen, with marble top counters and all the appliances imaginable.

What was more noticeable that all of that, however, was the girl sitting at the table. Kano stared at her for a moment or so. Her hair was long, and in a strange olive green color that could  _not_ have been natural. Her eyes were arguably dark brown, but appeared stark black and dull in the lighting they were in. Still, she was not an unpleasant sight. And while he could not explain it, Shuuya felt something within him stir, something that was not quite anxiety, but close in nature.

Was it familiarity? Impossible, he decided. It was impossible. He did not know the girl in front of him, and yet she seemed to know him. As their eyes met, she became softer and sadder, as if the mere sight of him caused her agony.

And it did. She rose from her seat, and marched over to him. He flinched, but remained still as she seemed to examine him. When she was done, she hugged him, and the sudden bout of affection caught Kano off guard.

His hands did not touch her, and his neck was weighed down by her heavy arms. She did not seem to realize his confusion, though, as she nearly cried into him.

"Kano, you idiot, where  _were_ you? Where'd you go? Why are you only coming back  _now?_ I...I…I missed you, Kano. So what the hell's going on? Why'd you leave? Why…?"

"Kido!" Seto called out to her. "Kido, don't jump to conclusions yet. I haven't explained it all yet. You see—"

"—I have no idea who you are." Kano finished Seto's words for him, in the most acidic tone he could muster. The words he spoke seemed to paralyze Kido, as her movements stilled alongside her hesitant breaths.

Kano sighed, and relinquished himself from her hold. He backed away, as if she might hurt him, or otherwise pull another harmful stunt on him. Her eyes, wide and shocked, held so many emotions that Kano decided not to acknowledge any of them. He repeated himself in an equally confused voice, but in a tone so bitter and so sharp that it  _hurt._

"I have no idea who any of you are, so would you  _please_  leave me alone after this?"


End file.
